


Disappear

by UN_Owen



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Fate, Mentor/Protégé, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pre-John Wick (2014), Slow Burn, Violence, age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-05-18 08:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UN_Owen/pseuds/UN_Owen
Summary: A stranger in a black suit knocking on your door was all it takes to turn your world upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still can't decide if it's a John Wick/Reader or an OFC so it might change later. Also I don't know much about tarot cards really so there's high probability that I didn't get it exactly as it should be. I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

Warm droplets of water trickled your skin provided distraction for the remaining hours at work. As much as you enjoyed the water on your skin, there were things that needed your immediate attention and had to leave the shower immediately.

It was the calm before the storm as you refer to it. You had to be clean and shower definitely help clear your mind too. You stepped out of the shower stall, you quickly wore your scrub suit and headed your way to the operating room. The pungent smell of antiseptic almost like home to you.

The day passed by like a blur. You had performed two surgeries and finished the 10 hour shift for the day. You have just entered the locker room, only to be greeted by a beautiful blonde woman looking at herself in the mirror. She looked at you and clasped her hand with delight.

“Hurry Y/N!” She squealed.

“Come on, Chloe. Give me a sec.” You told your fellow surgeon. And you did your best and swiftly changed your clothes and gathered your things before leaving the hospital with the woman. The two of you made way to the closest bar. The loud noise drowning up the world outside as you both settled on a pair of stools.

It wasn’t your usual scene but you were willing to try for Chloe. Your friend just ended a three year relationship and she might not admit it but she needed some distraction. Jumping into another relationship wouldn’t be a wise decision but having a girl’s night out seemed to be a better option.

After a few drinks, as you expected, Chloe started to spill her guts as the liquor loosened her tongue about her ex-boyfriend, Matthew. It was a story she needed to get out of her system and you’re more than happy to lend an ear.

You initiated that you’ve both had enough drinks for the night (but it was more for Chloe’s sake than yours) and you were glad that your friend agreed with you. Chloe’s flat was two blocks away and your assistance seemed to be necessary. You were along the street, walking slowly trying not to trip with your friend on your side.

It was supposed to be a quick trip to her flat but your friend skidded to an abrupt halt. You look at your friend to find her gazing to a psychic store. She pointed her finger to it and you groaned. “Chloe, it’s late.”

  
“But they’re still open! Look! The sign at the door says so.” She pointed at the door, where there was a flashing signage that the establishment was still open for business. 

You pursed your lips before saying, “They’re not real. They will just say some bullshit that you want to hear and then they get a few bucks.”

“Do you think they know if I made the right call about Mattie?” She asked, turning her head to you.

“Do you even hear a word I’m saying?”

“Let’s try it! It’s going to be fun!” She exclaimed.

_Obviously not listening._

How Chloe still has some energy was beyond you. Before you can protest, she tugged your hand and pulled you into the store.

You were greeted by over the top mystical beat music which fit the shop that was filled with mystical paraphernalia like crystals, charmed bracelets, tarot card decks and other stuff you haven’t seen before. At the corner of the shop, you saw a blonde woman wearing a long flowing gown, big hoop earrings, bangle bracelets and a scarf on her head.

The words ‘Madame Celestina’ was carved on a wooden signage on top of the table.  

Your friend eagerly walked towards the woman and asked for a reading. Trying to be polite, you tried not to roll your eyes. You joined your friend and heard the fortune teller’s words to her.

“As the door close with your ex-boyfriend, another door shall open. You can see with the card you picked, that person will catch you when you lease expected it.”

You can see Chloe’s hopes up hearing those words from the woman. As the brief consultation came to an end, she fished a couple of bucks in her pocket and gave it to the fortune teller.

“Your turn.” The woman said to you as she hid the payment in her pocket.

“It’s getting late. Maybe next time.” You forced a smile at her.

“Don’t be such a killjoy, Y/N.” Chloe groaned.

“You have your reading. Now we have to go.” You insisted.

“You don’t believe in this thing don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question from Madame Celestine.

“I believe in the power of making decisions than cards doing them for me.” You shrugged.

It was a scam. You often thought that people like Madame Celestina would say anything what their client wanted to hear. Your friend became an unfortunate victim. Deep in your thoughts, you failed to notice Chloe taking another bucks in her wallet and offered it to the fortune teller.

“Please give her a reading. Maybe she’d be less grumpy if she meets someone.” Chloe giggled.

You glared at her but she just gave you a dreamy smile.

“Come take a seat. She already paid for your reading. It would be a waste, wouldn’t it?” Celestina motioned to the empty chair beside your friend. “Besides I can feel something coming on your way.” The fortune teller added.

She shuffled the cards and laid them out before you. With a sigh, you sat down. “Choose four cards. Cards that will reveal about your twin flame.”

“Twin flame?” You asked.

“Soulmate.” Chloe replied.

You snorted at the thought before proceeding to choose the five cards. You pointed out four random cards, not really taking too much time to choose. After all, you just wanted it to be over.

Madame Celestina moved the other cards from the table until it was just the four cards you chose. You wilted on your chair while Chloe was staring intently at your cards.

“The first card will reveal who is the person you’ll be meeting.” Then the woman flipped the card to reveal five men holding logs. You blink owlishly trying to figure out what the card was.

“Five of wands. The man that shall enter your life is a lost soul. This man..He is in conflict. He walks the earth for years not knowing what his true purpose in life is. Or perhaps he thinks he knows what his purpose is, but his heart lies somewhere else.”

“That sounds like a bummer.” You commented.

“Somehow meeting you would bring even more conflict and tension.”

“It could be that new neurosurgeon!” Chloe squealed.

“Johnson?” You snorted.

“Yeah. I mean he does look like a lost soul you know. A bit of a loner and-“

“A complete jerk.” You said before she could say anything.

“Well there is one way to see if it’s the Johnson man that your friend is speaking of. The next card should tell us how you will meet him.” Celestina unveiled another card. It was a woman pouring down water to a pond and a star was right behind her. “Interesting.”

“You shall meet him when you least expect him. He will pull you out of the darkness and into the light. Like a star, he will light up your path and show you how to get back on your feet.”

 _Darkness?_ You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it sounded.

“Johnson’s transfer was unexpected.” Chloe yawned.

“Can we please move on with the next one?” You requested.

“As you wish.” Flipping another card, Celestina clicked her tongue.

“There will be a lot of fighting?” You deduced from the three of swords card that pierced a heart.

“This is what your relationship is. Heartbreak, sorrow and grief. Pain comes from not just physical form but through words and actions. It resonates with the star card. You are in the dark, and so is he.”

“Why would I want to meet this guy if that’s the kind of relationship I’ll have with him?” You challenged her.

“Because the sun always shines after the storm. You may even see a rainbow.” She replied with ease.

 _That could said to anyone_ , you thought to yourself.

“Last but not the least…Your future with him.” Celestina bit her lip as it revealed the death card in reverse.

Chloe gasped and stared at you with disbelief. “No way.”

“Before any of you jumped into conclusion. Death doesn’t always mean a literal death. It’s more about transformation and seeking freedom from the past.”

“Why is it in reverse?”

“Something tells me you’re not a person that can be easily swayed. A big change is coming your way to transform you, but you are going to resist it. You will have problems letting go of the things that needs to be let go.”

“I’ll be eternally stuck in a situation because I’ll refuse to change?”

The fortune teller nodded her head. “But it’s just a reading, dear. Things can still change. The cards merely serves as a guide. Choose wisely.”

 

* * *

 

The city was still buzzing with life as midnight drew closer. It wouldn’t have been called the city that never sleeps for nothing. You’ve been there in the morning through evening and everyone around you seemed to be always on the move.

You brought Chloe safely back in her house while you made your way in yours. It was a simple two-storey house with three bedrooms. The house was given to you after graduating med school since your mother refused to stay there.

You closed the door and headed to the living room after pressing the telephone for any messages. One of it was your mother, asking why you haven’t been answering her call and insisting that she wants to meet up tomorrow. You frowned and look at your phone. The battery apparently died sometime when you were at the bar with Chloe.

Visiting your mother wouldn’t be a problem considering that it’s your day off tomorrow.

There were stack of photos on the table, few of which reminded you why you chose to be a surgeon and that’s the picture of your father, Alphonse Y/LN.

The man wasn’t a doctor or a surgeon. He was a travel agent. He has been in a car accident when you were only fifteen and the surgeons can’t do anything to help him. They didn’t even let you see his face when he died because of the damage.

You learn at a young age to accept the good and the bad things in life. There were things in the world that you can’t change nor control. You just have to focus on what you can change.

‘Amor Fati,’ your father’s words echoed in your head.

Every time he returned, he has been nothing but a doting father. He spent time with you everytime he can get. He would play games with you (hide and seek being your favorite) and even go to camping. Occasionally, he’ll bring you to a hunting trip when you were 10 and will explicitly tell you to keep it a secret from your mother.

It was your plan to join the Doctors without Borders once you saved up enough money and experience in your field. You seemed to have an adventurous streak too, something that you have inherited from your father.

Too exhausted, you didn’t bother to change your clothes and headed off to bed. Just like that, you fall into a slumber.

You didn’t remember what your dream was but you was sure you were in the middle of something when you heard the doorbell. You groaned and rubbed your eyes. It was still dark and the wall clock confirmed that it was only 4 in the morning.

Trying to guess who would bother you in such an ungodly hour was driving you mad. When you couldn’t think of anyone, you grabbed the metal baseball bat under your bed and went down to the front door.

The bell stopped ringing then it was replaced by a firm knock on the door.

Peeking to the peep hole, you saw a tall man in a black suit. His dark hair matched his dark eyes but what troubled you was the fresh cut on his face and the way he was clutching on his stomach. Your jaw nearly dropped seeing the red liquid dripping in his suit.

Dropping the bat on the ground, you opened the door to let the wounded man inside your house. He was catching his breath as he dip his hand to his pocket and offered you a pendant.

“Open it.” He said.

The pendant was soaked with blood as you took it from him. You willingly obliged to see that it was an old picture of you, your father and your mother having a picnic. Staring at him with cow eyes, you were lost for words.

How on earth did he get your father’s pendant?

The man leaned against the door for support as he held on to his bloody stomach. You realized that the man suffered more injury aside from the cut from his face and stomach.

“What…Who are you? How did you get this?”

“He gave it to me.”

Your forehead puckered. Didn’t the man learn about your father’s death? You take in a deep breath before answering, “He’s been dead for more than a decade.”

He shook his head. “Listen Y/N, you have to get out of here.”

“We have to get you to the hospital.” You told him before leading him on to the couch.

“No.” He protested.

“You’re not going to survive.” You said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Neither are you if you stay here.” He looked her straight in the eye, his breath growing erratic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! I really appreciate it. I'm sorry if it took long to post this one. I hope you all enjoy the second chapter.

You shook your head and rest a hand over your forehead. Taking in a deep breath, you look at the man with unblinking eyes. "What’s happening?" Hundreds of questions raced in your head.

Aside from the unexpected visitor, you wonder why in the hell is your life suddenly in danger?

"There are men looking for you. We have to move quick." He replied, looking straight at you.

"Why-"

"We don’t have much time. We have to go." He said, cutting off your question.

"But we have to get that fix." You said firmly while your gaze landed on his wounded stomach. Before he could protest, you continued, "Look mister..."

"Wick," he supplied.

"Mister Wick, I don’t think it’s best for you to move with your condition. You have to at least let me do something with that." You gestured at his wounded stomach.

His jaw clenched and you knew that you were testing his patience, so did he.

"You’ll be losing a lot of blood if we don’t fix that. If you lose blood, oxygen won’t get to your brain and then you’ll faint. That way, we’ll both be in more danger. How's that sound?" The man reminded was stubborn but he wasn’t the first ‘patient’ that shared the attitude of not wanting to tend to his wound.

Mr. Wick didn’t seem to be convince and you made another offer, hoping it would put him at ease. "If it makes you better, we can do it in the panic room upstairs."

“Y/N, you have to understand that it’s dangerous for you to stay in here.”

You bobbed your head, but in truth, you haven’t got a single clue what kind of danger you were actually in but you can’t just ignore the wounded man.

"Please. It won’t even take ten minutes." You pleaded.

His lips screwed into a fine line as he nodded his head. “Fine. Ten minutes.”

You turned off all the lights inside the house as you led the stranger inside the panic room. Mister Wick told you that it might help if no one would think that you are at home.

The narrow door was hidden behind the ‘wall mirror’ on the second floor of the house. For the first time, you started to appreciate the room that your father built. You entered the room and flickered the lights inside the panic room. The paint on the wall was already faded and a few cobwebs littered the room.

“Er..Sorry for the mess.” Not really the best place to tend to his wounds but it was the safest place in the house.

He occupied one of the chairs and you rushed outside to grab a first aid kit and whatever medical supply. Shortly, you joined him in the room again. You brought down what you have found in the house that you think would be useful.

Wearing your gloves first, you then proceeded to hurriedly unbutton his shirt. You were fixated on the task when you heard his breath hitched and witness eyes locking on you.

You blushed, you don’t usually dive in and remove any of your patient’s clothes before. You cleared your throat. “We’re in a hurry.”

The mystery man only nodded before shedding his shirt and stared at his watch.

There was no time to waste and you proceeded to clean his wound first with antiseptic before working on the cut on his stomach.

“It’s deep. We need to stitch it up.” You took the needle and pull all the thread out of the suture kit. Your left hand used the tissue forceps to reveal the side of the wound that needed to be sutured.

Your mind reeled questions about the arrival of Mr. Wick into your house and bringing what you thought was a long lost pendant. Forcing yourself to focus on fixing his wound was a struggle.

You can’t help but your mind has been jumping into conclusions. You’ve watch films before and the thought that the man was involve with the mob was a possibility. It would explain why he doesn’t want to go to the Hospital and you were certain that he would be against going to the police too.

Someone did it to him for sure and you cringed at the thought that the men who could have hurt Mr. Wick would come after you.

Your dad wouldn’t give him the pendant if he didn’t trust him? But how come he’d show up long after your father’s death?

While you were fixing his wound, you felt his eyes on you.

"You don't strike me as a travel agent." You murmured, breaking the silence.

"What?" He asked, his brow knitted together.

"I don’t think you've work with my dad at the travel agency" you clarified, catching his dark eyes. “I mean I’ve seen his partners before back at the agency and he hasn’t mentioned you.”

For a moment something glimmer on his stoic face for just a moment or maybe you are imagining things.  Before you can decipher the look on his face, it quickly vanished in a second.

"You're Dad’s friend, right? I mean you won't risk yourself…"

"It's complicated."

"Why would you help him out then?"

"It's a long story."

 You figured that Mr. Wick was a man of few words.  

“And we’re done.” It wasn’t your greatest work, the stitches were a little sloppy and could be better.

Your father’s friend stood up unceremoniously and wore his bloodied shirt. Something tells you that the man has his fair share of trouble that blood didn’t seem to bother him.

You eyed your bedroom as you were on the way downstairs and he gave you a look and shook his head.

_No packing it is then._

“My car’s just a block away. We can make it-“ He stopped on his tracks hearing a door violently opened. You gasped and nearly jumped hearing the noise. Not too long after that, you heard footsteps on the first floor.

“Knives?”

You look at him dumbfounded before it sink in to you. “Kitchen, first drawer on the left.”

He gave you a nod and told you to hide.

“O-Of course.” You said breathlessly.

“Good.” Moving down the stairs, you called out his name quietly.

“Mr. Wick?”

He made an abrupt halt as he turned his head back at you.

“Be careful.”

A nod was the only response you received before he vanished into the darkness.

The house was dark but living there for decades gave you the advantage of knowing every inch of it.

You were still on the second floor and you wonder how many men could have gotten inside. There were five rooms on the floor including the panic room and you have yet to make a decision which one you would be able to hide efficiently.

Heavy footsteps blasted on the staircase. It wasn’t Mr. Wick’s and you knew it time to move your ass.

The nearest room you found was the bathroom. You try to fit yourself on the side of the tub and let the curtain remained slightly open.

The footsteps got closer and closer to you.

The door in the bathroom opened with a loud bang. A man slipped inside the bathroom. You saw him holding a gun and a flashlight.  

He aimed the flashlight in the tub, the curtain concealing your form. You could feel beads of sweat forming on your forehead at the proximity of you and the intruder.

_Should I tackle him?_

_Maybe I can just run and hope for the best?_

You pursed your lips tightly, trying to even your breathing.

Another person marched inside the bathroom breaking in the silence. “Maybe she’s not home?”

“We have to keep looking. The others are already downstairs.” The man replied.

“Clear.” You heard another voice in the room.

_How many are they?_

You heard them move away from you and you closed your eyes then leaned your head at the wall for a moment.

_It’s like playing hide and seek…but with fucking guns. No need to panic._

You tentatively dipped your feet outside the tub and peaked outside the room. You couldn’t hear any footsteps nearby and tiptoed on your way to your bedroom. No one appeared to be inside and you made your way inside.

There was a way out to your bedroom through the roof. Not the safest option but it was a lot safer compared to meeting one of the gun men that trespassed into your home.

You would have lock the door but you heard footsteps outside the room and then there were gunshots filling in the house.

Without much place to hide, you dive under the bedroom as silently as you could.

 _The smartest thing to do is hide under the bed,_ you thought sarcastically.

There must have been a gunfight somewhere in the house. You just weren’t sure exactly where it was happening.

‘Keep your breath still, quiet as a mouse, fast like a rabbit.’ You repeated the words inside your head.

“Go! Go! Go!” You heard someone yelled outside the room. Their footsteps barely heard on how loud the gunshots were.

“We have to clear one more room!” The other man replied.

“Go check it out! Baba Yaga’s downstairs.” One of the men replied.

_What the hell is a Baba Yaga?_

You winced as you saw a pair of feet just outside your room. The unwanted visitor turned on the lights and started to move inside lethargically. You saw him slowly approach your wardrobe and made a stop.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to muster whatever courage you have left. You know what you have to do.

_It’s now or never._

You heard the man open your wardrobe and you took the opportunity to quickly roll over opposite the wardrobe. Your hand snatched the lamp on the bedside table and with a few quick strides, you kick the back of his knee with all your strength and hit his head with the lamp.

The lamp broke as it made contact on the man’s head. He fell down with a thud. The noise swallowed by the gunshots downstairs. He was bald, six foot tall and dressed in a suit just like the stranger you just stitched up.

You wanted to know how you got tangled into the mess but now is not the time for questions. Opening the window swiftly, you straddled the sill of the window pane.

There were black cars parked outside your house; all of which looked abandoned. None of the gun men appeared to be outside the house as well.

You moved to the brick roof, making small cautious steps to the edge. It was at least 10 feet high.

“You can do it, Y/N. Just like in Gymnastics.” You assured yourself as your voice trembled.  

You inhaled deeply before flipping down the ground. You were able to land on both feet but your balance was off. You fell forward, grazing your elbows and knee in the process.

“Shit.” You cursed before pushing yourself to stand up.

You barely noticed the noises inside your house has already died down. Your chest heaved looking at your house. It was your sanctuary but it was now reduced into a mess. You saw the broken windows and newly made holes that could have been from the gun fight.

There was a silhouette in your bedroom but you can’t make out the person’s face.

A part of you wanted to believe Mr. Wick survived. But the odds weren’t in his favor. He was outnumbered and the men carried guns while your visitor only had kitchen knives with him. Not to mention, he was already wounded which didn’t help the situation.

Getting ready to run away to safety, you heard the front door open. You spun around to see that Mr. Wick was still alive and standing. There was a fresh cut on his face and a few bruises. You noticed the pool of blood on his suit.

It could have been his but you knew that most of the stain came from the trespassers in your home.

He looked at you from head to toe with his brow furrowed. “I told you to hide.”

“Someone would eventually found me.” You replied.

A van made a stop in front of the house and you were ready to run but Mr. Wick held your arm. “It’s okay.” He said to you.

‘Specialized Waste Disposal’ you read the signage on the van. You crunched up your face as an old man exited the vehicle.

“John” The old man greeted your companion before turning his attention to you. An amused smile lingered on his lips.

“Charlie.” Mr. Wick replied.

“Dinner reservation for 10?” The elderly man asked.

Mr. Wick, or John as Charlie called him, nodded his head before handing over coins to the man. The coins he gave to him were gold, nothing you’ve seen before.

Three men left the van but the wounded stranger remained calm. The men didn’t pay you any attention as they walked their way into your house.

“Mr. Wick? What are they-” You were interrupted when he put both hands on either side of you.

“Y/N, it’s fine. You have to trust me.” He told you, his dark eyes boring with yours.

You still weren’t sure if he could be trusted but he just saved your life and your father must have trusted him as well to give him his pendant. You wouldn’t have survive the home invasion if not for him.

Should you really trust him?

“We have to go now.” His voice broke your train of thought.

You bobbed your head in agreement as the two of you get inside his car and drove away.


End file.
